The Muse of Xerxes
by freebird2992
Summary: legends tell of a Queen of Xerxes bearing secret knowledge for her King. In the present time, history seems to be repeating itself once more.


So after a long time without writing, I dove into this story idea with no clue where I wanted to go except for the notion that I must write, finish and publish this piece of work. I implore you to write a review and give me a good idea if it needs work.

The Muse of Xerxes- legends tell of a Queen of Xerxes bearing secret knowledge for her King. In the present time, history seems to be repeating itself once more.

 _She was on fire._

 _At least, it felt like she was on fire instead of lying on her belly with nothing to cover her upper body. The only part of her that was really burning was her back._

 _At least the cool air was soothing enough to settle down her irritated flesh. However, what really ignited her body with pain were the rough hands tracing across her skin like it was trying to flatten her down._

 _"It's finally done." Berthold Hawkeye's voice was caught in the middle of disbelief and excitement. To Riza's fuzzy mind, his voice gurgled to her like he was speaking underwater._

 _His rough hands smoothed across her back, catching onto raised flesh and broken skin making her wince. She was able to turn her neck enough to see her father staring at all of his hard hours of labor with misty eyes._

 _"I can't believe it. It's so beautiful." He choked on his words and swallowed hard making his Adam's apple jump with joy._

 _Overcome with emotion, his hands ceased caressing his final masterpiece and backed away until he hit a side table making all of his books and notes fall. He was able to catch himself on a ledge and steady himself breathing hard. He covered his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut finally freeing his tears of happiness._

 _Riza watched him from where she lay. She had no energy to move, let alone speak. The hours of excruciating discomfort had rendered her useless on the dining room table. Now it would be forever stained by her blood._

 _Her eyes drifted down to the mess of papers and books and caught a glimpse of red before she heard her father's whimpering stop._

 _She was finally able to catch her father's eye, and his joyousness snapped into his usual dark demeanor. To Riza, her half naked form shivered even more as she felt the atmosphere suddenly grow cold as winter. He stalked over lowered his body to her level until she could smell his breath. "You will protect this gift with your life." She felt herself shift away. He called it a gift?_

 _When she didn't answer him immediately he grabbed her shoulder and squeezed it painfully, "swear it!"_

 _Her only response was squeezing her eyes closed. Trying to shut out her father and the burning pain of the ink embedded on her back._

Riza sucked in a breath and shot her eyes open. For a terrifying moment, she forgot where she was and how she got there. She began hyperventilating while her eyes darted around the room, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She caught sight of a familiar ceiling fan lazily spinning cool desert air. Letting out a sigh of relief, Riza let her head fall back on her pillow.

Far off in the distance, she could hear a siren humming off into the night alarming its approaching presence. The only thing that was louder than the siren was the gentle breathing off to her left.

She turned her head and was greeted by a mess of dark hair springing off in different directions. Roy Mustang was not much of a tight sleeper. Even before the war, Roy would stay up for hours trying to study up to his master's standards. But on rare nights such as these, Roy was fortunate enough to fall into a dreamless sleep without memories of the war playing in his mind. It wouldn't really benefit him if she woke him up now with her problems.

Still haunted by the feeling of thick calloused hands smoothing across her back affectionately, Riza decided she wasn't going to go back to sleep anytime soon. Her mind was still replaying old memories that were long ago suppressed. And for a good reason.

Propping herself up on her elbow, Riza slid out of the bed as quiet as a mouse and tip-toed out to the living room before shutting the door behind her.

Roy's apartment had always felt like a safe place for Riza. It was just her and him tonight. No distractions, no teammates, no homunculi, and no dog. It was a typical kind of bachelor pad with little furniture and hardly any decorations. There wasn't even enough food in the fridge to sustain them both in the morning before work.

If there was anything that really made it distinguishable as 'Roy's apartment,' it would be the floor to ceiling bookshelf that lined his wall. Riza imagined that if she wasn't the one organizing everything in the office at work, then it would probably look like his overstuffed and disordered monstrosity collection of books. There were pages sticking out in odd areas with newspapers and unpaid bills stuffed all over the place. There were even books lying as casualties on ground that must've fallen off at some point.

She headed to the kitchen which was nothing more than an attached area to the apartment and grabbed a glass of water. Quenching her thirst, she headed back to the living room and plopped onto the couch.

Riza turned her head to the rhythmic ticking of the clock and saw that it was a little after 3:00 a.m., but she felt like she just drank a gallon of coffee. She let her head fall and closed her eyes in exasperation. In two hours, she would usually get up and start her usual morning ritual. She could easily get a head start on her day, but she was already too hay wired to diverge from her strict schedule.

She turned her attention to the bookshelf and decided to take on some reading. Maybe that would tire her out enough to fall asleep before she had to restart her day.

She walked over to the shelf and traced her forefinger against the books spines.

She smirked a little when she came across Machiavelli's, 'The Prince,' and giggled a little. Of course Roy would have a copy of that in his collection.

Getting down on her knees to see what were on the lower shelves, a thick red book caught her eye. The letters, which were once printed in gold, were either peeling off or flaking off. Despite its age-worn look, Riza felt a spike of familiarity.

Pulling it out, she could just make out the imprinted title read, 'Legends and Folklore of Xerxes.'

Opening the cover to the title page, she nearly dropped the book as if it had burned her. There on the inside cover, was the familiar spidery signature of Berthold Hawkeye.

After her father's funeral, Riza remembered telling Roy that he could take any of his master's books or notes on alchemy. She didn't have any real use for them, and she knew Roy probably needed them more than she did. Consequently, Roy must've grabbed a book of legends and fairy tales that belonged to her father by accident.

But why did her father even have something like this?

As studious as her father was, Riza didn't remember him being much of a recreational reader. He was strictly a devout reader of alchemy textbooks or articles. She was sure of that much about him.

But still, this was _his_ book. His ancient signature was signed in pen on the front cover.

After a few moments, or maybe a few minutes, Riza finally braved her hand to reach out and snatch the book close to her. She wasn't going to let her father's ghost continue haunting her, especially through a book.

She flipped through the pages that puffed a cloud of dust into her face. Stifling back a cough, Riza saw a flash of red and stopped fanning the pages. Flipping back in the opposite direction, Riza stopped on a page with a red silk ribbon resting as a bookmark for the beginning of a story. The way that the ribbon fell on the page made it permanently pressed in a bent angle like it was a bent elbow motioning for her to come closer.

Glancing at the title, 'The Xerxian Queen,' she noted that it was crowned by two penciled-in stars.

Was that by her father? Or was it by Roy?

Riza began reading the story and felt her eyes widen in shock.

 _In the more prosperous times of Xerxes, there lived a young King who ruled over his kingdom justly. But, although he was a much beloved ruler by all of Xerxes, the king still desired to have a queen rule beside him._

 _But he didn't just want anyone to be his Queen. The King desired a woman to marry who was fully devoted and loyal to her husband and country and, above all else, produce an heir that would carry on their familial dynasty._

 _The King finally met a woman who was fit to have this kind of caliber. He married a noblewoman whose beauty was said to only match a goddess with flowing golden hair. She pledged her loyalty and was true to her word and King, as well as the wellbeing of the prosperous kingdom of Xerxes. Soon enough, the King and his Queen were able to give birth to a healthy boy fulfilling the King's wish at last._

 _The utopian empire looked as if it would be ruled by the royal dynasty and last for many generations._

 _But the peoples' optimism was deceived._

 _The fate of the royal family had yet to show its true misfortune to the people of Xerxes._

 _The Kingdom of Xerxes was indeed becoming a prosperous country, but that was all accredited to the flourishing study of a new sciences combined with ancient magic; alchemy. This strange and developing practice was said to turn lead into gold and even create a stone that would provide immortality to its user. The alchemists who performed these miracles conjured in their laboratories were of a great interest to the King, and it was his prime objective to not only fund their research but study it as well._

 _And although he was a fine ruler, the King was an even greater alchemist._

 _But these famous alchemists were a new breed of profession. They were highly ranked in the government yet were often swindled out of their prized research by thieves with no real talent, who would steal their work in hopes of learning to make gold or gain immortality. Or just as simply claim ownership of work that didn't belong to them._

 _Drastic measures were taken, Alchemists began to create codes and inscriptions were invented. Some masterfully created codes were simply written in another language that was no longer used, while others were creatively hid their life's work on parchment by invisible ink._

 _Every great alchemist had a way of hiding their secrets. Whatever it took to protect their research became the ultimate goal. If hidden successfully, their notes and discoveries would selfishly die along with them._

 _Because of this, alchemists, though highly ranked, were labeled as the greediest beings of the royal court._

 _The King of Xerxes was one of these great Alchemists with great secrets. He worried over his research, and contemplated the many ways that he could hide what he was able to discover in his findings. He was beginning to feel the cold claws of desperation take a hold of his soul. He simply couldn't allow his discoveries to be taken by anybody._

 _But while his true passion of alchemy suffered, Xerxes was thankfully still prosperous under his rule. Which only lead to even more trouble for the King._

 _Rumors began to float through his Kingdom of him discovering how to transmute lead into gold, explaining the vast wealth the country was able to spend. However true or false these rumors were, a wanton thief had heard of the King's supposed great discoveries. The thief became compelled to get his hands upon the mystical power that was hidden within the King's alchemical notes._

 _In the dead of the night, the thief was able to sneak past the King's guards and infiltrate the palace without the least suspicion. With the moon being his only source of light, the Thief entered the Royal Bedroom where the King and Queen rested. Finding the secret compartment where the King stored all of his secret notes, the thief was able to swipe the notes into his pocket and creep quietly towards his exit. But before the thief could make his escape, the Queen of Xerxes had awoken from within her chambers and was alarmed by the mysterious intruder. The Queen alerted the militia of his burglary and he was instantly captured._

 _The King had awoken at his Queen's scream and witnessed her attempts to quell the thief's attempt of escape from the palace before the King's guard arrived and reprimanded the thief. The Thief was immediately executed the following day as the sun began to rise past the horizon._

 _The Queen had saved the King's alchemical research notes, further proving her unwavering loyalty and devotion to her King._

 _Without his Queen, all of the King's alchemic research would've been lost._

 _The King then swore to his Queen, on the life of their Son and on the prosperity of Xerxes, that his findings and discoveries of Alchemy would never be uncovered._

As Riza read on the rest of the story, a tightly wound string that felt like it was holding her together suddenly snapped. Her hands began trembling, making her drop the book as her back suddenly felt like it was on fire. She began clutching herself as if she was holding down her body from jumping out the window. Her whole body was shaking.

"Riza?"

Gasping, she snapped her neck to the owner of the voice. "What's wrong?" Roy asked.

At some point in the early morning, Roy had sensed Riza's absence from his side and had instantly shot awake. He had thought that he heard some movement in the other room and thought that maybe she was getting up to get a glass of water. It wasn't until he heard a thump and a stifled cry that he tore from his bed and stalked to his living room to find Riza shaking and hugging herself.

Instantly taking action, Roy came up to her side and lowered down to her level clutching her shoulders.

That was when he saw the source of making Riza look so distraught. The red leather bound cover was left open on the floor like a dead butterfly.

He didn't need to ask what she read. After all, he had the same reaction reading about her expense long ago.

"Come on. Let's get you to the couch."

Roy pulled Riza up with him while grasping both shoulders. She leaned into him as they rose up but steadied herself enough to walk independently to the couch.

Once he was satisfied that Riza was well situated where she sat, he went off to get her a glass of cold water. When he handed it to her, she didn't even bother rising it to her lips.

"Please drink it, Riza. It'll make you feel better."

For the first time since he walked into the living room, Riza turned her head and looked up at him before shying away back into staring into her glass. She shook her head and pressed her lips together before answering him. "No it won't."

Roy opened his mouth to retaliate but instantly closed it seeing no good outcome if he blatantly argued with her. "Please," he tried begging. "At least do it to make _me_ feel better."

It was a cheap shot and he knew it. Riza didn't even seem fazed by what he said.

She felt him trying to place a hand onto her shoulder but flinched away from his touch.

"Riza," he breathed.

She still didn't answer him.

A million questions whizzed around Roy's mind as to what had happened. But he already felt in his gut that he knew already. So why ask questions if you already know the answers to them? Despite all of the things he wanted to ask, he just settled on one question that could break the ice for now.

"How much did you read?" He didn't need to indicate on which chapter or which story he was talking about. She wouldn't react this way to any other stories.

Riza's hands visibly clenched at his question. Moistening her lips, she finally answered him. "All of it."

Damn.

Realizing he wasn't going to get any other answers out of her that were more than three syllables he stood up and retrieved the book that was still strewn on the ground. He used his thumb to flip through the pages until it landed on the last page of the story. It depicted a gruesome illustration of the ending.

He instantly shut the book and walked over back to Riza's side. "I'm sorry you had to see this." He settled next to her and held the book in his hands. "I thought I got rid of it a long time ago. But I guess it survived on my shelf even after all of these years."

Riza didn't say anything, but continued to sit in silence with Roy just beside her. After what felt like an eternity of silence, Riza's raspy voice finally broke past her pale lips. "That's where he got the idea."

"What?"

"That's where he got the idea," she repeated. "He made me his 'Queen of Xerxes.'" Riza tightened her hands into shaking fists and glared at the floor.

The ending of the story still whizzed around her head.

 _The Xerxian King was more desperate than ever to keep his secrets hidden. And since the incident of someone stealing his work and executing a man, he was willing to do anything to keep his work safe._

 _Not trusting anyone, not even his most loyal advisors and wisest scholars, the King turned to the only one who knew the necessity of his plight; his Queen. He fell to his knees before her and wept outright at his impossible dilemma. He begged for her to keep his alchemic secrets safe with her as she was the only person in the entire world that he trusted enough to protect his secrets. The only catch would be that she would never know the code._

 _Honored by the King's request to be the bearer of his most prized research, the Queen agreed. She lowered herself further to the floor than her King and swore her loyalties would always be to her King and country._

 _Happy that his Queen was so willing to undertake this arduous task, he kissed the ground from where she knelt and declared her his most prized companion._

 _After the Queen agreed to do this service for her King, she was never seen in public again._

 _Rumors circled around the country for many years. Citizens of Xerxes began to fear that their beloved Queen was dead or, even worse, murdered by her own King. The King had to convince his people many times that his Queen was alive and well while living in the castle. But despite the King's reassurances to his people, he showed no living proof that the Queen was safe let alone alive._

 _The people of Xerxes were angered by the absence of their Queen, and rumors began to spread like wildfire around the country. Some servants claimed of seeing a woman cloaked in black, wandering around the castle like a dark spirit. Other rumors said that her body was broken up and hidden in different parts of the castle to hide the terrible deed the King had committed._

 _All stories reflected negatively upon the King, who was once looked upon with great love by his people. His popularity was plummeting, yet nobody knew the true fate of the Queen aside from the King himself and for their son; the Prince._

 _The truth was never fully discovered until the King collapsed with an illness during his thirty-fifth year of reigning over Xerxes._

 _As the King lay dying he called for the Prince to come to his side and gave his final wish. He bequeathed his throne and burden of wearing the crown unto the Prince, as well as another task for the son to perform after the King's death._

 _After the Prince was given this task, servants witnessed a Black hooded figure enter from the shadows that entered the King's bedchambers and fell to his side. The King then demanded that everyone leave, save for the mysterious figure._

 _Nobody knows what happened behind the closed doors between the dying King and the mysterious figure in black. But after many hours of being locked in the room alone together, the mysterious figure finally emerged from the King's bedchambers and declared him dead at last._

 _The King's funeral pyre was set up in front of the Temple of Xerxes. The Prince stood on a platform that was built above the funeral pyre and was accompanied by the mysterious figure cloaked in only black. Before the mourning citizens of Xerxes, the Prince walked up to the top of the funeral pyre and threw down a torch onto the King's corpse beginning the ceremony of public cremation of Xerxian Royalty._

 _While the King's body was broken and burned in the flames of crackling fire, the Prince pulled off the black cloak of the figure accompanying him. Revealing the naked form of the long lost Queen of Xerxes._

 _The skeletal form of the Queen was shaven from head to toe. There was hardly any meat on her bones that kept her body together. Her pale pasty skin glowed in the desert sun making her look like a goddess of death. The once golden haired beauty who became the Queen of Xerxes was an ugly shell of a woman she once was. But the true horror was the intricate black designs decorating all over her body._

 _Her whole body was stained with black tattoos that depicted dark forms of alchemic symbols._

 _The Queen had agreed to be the bearer of the King's secret notes to his alchemic research._

 _If there was any doubt of this naked woman being the long lost Queen, all questions were put to rest by the Prince bending on one knee and kissing her hand, calling her "mother" before all of those present at the funeral._

 _Everybody who had attended the public cremation saw the Queen stand above the King's burning body, revealing all of the complexity of the King's hard work and efforts in alchemic research. But it also showed what lengths he would take to protect what he knew._

 _Even if it meant sacrificing his Queen._

 _The last task given unto the Prince by the King on his deathbed was nigh. As his final goodbye, the Prince bowed one last time to his mother and Queen and pushed her over the edge into the burning funeral pyre. Fulfilling the King's final wish._

 _No one knows what Alchemic secrets the King had discovered during his lifetime. Nobody was able to make sense of what discoveries were encoded in the various tattoos covering her body. Whatever secrets were ever hidden on the Queens' skin was destroyed on the day of his funeral. His well-guarded life's work was protected by no one else save for the unwavering loyal Queen. Who lived in exile for the rest of her life so that she may please her King._

 _Despite her loyalties to her King and husband, the Queen screamed all the way down as she fell._

Roy opened the book to the black and white illustration of The King's funeral. It presented a funeral pyre already set on fire with taller scaffolding raised to the side of it. It depicted a figure standing on the top with his arms stretched out like he had just pushed something in front of him. 'That's the Prince,' Roy thought as he noted the figure's reluctant expression.

Down the page was the naked body of a shaven woman falling halfway to her doom. All over her body were rough sketches and designs printed all over the Queen's body. The artist surely wasn't there, but the stark black and white symbols painted all over the body stood out as the grand masterpiece of the illustration.

What had really caught Roy's eye was the unnatural angle of the Queen's neck while she was falling. The artist depicted her with her eyes bugged out with horror and her body falling straight down like she was diving into a pool.

Roy shut the book and sighed. He could've sworn that he had gotten rid of it years ago. But for whatever reason, it had rested with his collection on the shelf after all of this time. He remembered coming across that book, sometime after the war in Ishval. He was so shocked and angry at it that he threw the book across the room hitting the wall. Roy should've gotten rid of it then, he wasn't even sure how he still had it now.

Riza sat where he left her on the couch without moving. She was still fuming where she sat.

Without warning, Riza finally looked up at Roy with new resolve in her eyes.

"Do you have any matches?"

Roy arched an eyebrow at her. "Uh, maybe? Somewhere in the kitchen?"

Riza stood and stalked towards the kitchen opening a random drawer and started fishing through its loose items. Roy followed close behind. "What are you going to use them for?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes were trained searching through the messy drawer.

Despite the early hour, Roy was quick on the uptake. "Let me do it. I'll use my ignition gloves." In a way, it would be a sort of poetic justice if he burned the book with Flame Alchemy. He started heading towards his bedroom trying to remember the last place he left them.

"No," she called after him. "I have to be the one to do it."

Roy turned around, "Let me do it. I can-"

"I have to be the one that decides what happens to it," she interrupted. Even in the dark, Roy could still see the spark of purpose in Riza's eyes. Her father had bestowed this heavy burden on his daughter's shoulders.

Figuratively and physically.

Even so, she was the one who decided that Roy was the one to burn and crush her back so that the art would never survive. She was the one who decided to follow Roy in the military and make sure he used his knowledge of Flame Alchemy responsibly.

Now, she would again snub out any possibilities of revealing traces of the secrets of Flame Alchemy she still had on her back.

At last, Riza fished out a small matchbook and headed over to the living room where the book was still laying astray on the ground. Roy already beat her to it, and picked it up matching the same determination Riza had on her face.

Without a word, both of them headed to the kitchen. Roy didn't have the luxury of having a fireplace in his apartment, so they would have to make do with the stove. He placed the book on a pan and pushed a button, opening up the vent that hung above his stove.

Riza immediately ripped off a flimsy match and began to vigorously run it across the striker. After a couple failed attempts, the match broke. White hot rage and desperation took a hold on Riza. Her mind began to shift away from good judgement. Riza ripped off a new match and repeated the same action. After a few tries, it broke in half in her pinched fingertips. She tried again, but began striking the match furiously to the point of breaking it after two tries.

That wild determination and focus on her goal slowly began to ebb away like a retreating ocean wave.

Roy watched her hands begin to shake and saw her face slowly crumble right before him. Without thinking, he covered her hands still clutching the matchbook with his and leaned his forehead against hers. "It's okay," he whispered. "You're alright."

Riza felt her knees buckle and leaned against him, eventually pulling them both to the ground until they were both on the kitchen floor. Roy was still clutching her hands. He pulled her in closer to his chest while she silently wept.

Book and matches all forgotten.

Bombarded by memories of living under the thumb of her father.

In Riza's mind, Berthold Hawkeye was still leering over her with her back exposed to him. She still felt like she was lying on that table while her father kept jabbing her back with a small needle. Her back began to ache and burn all at once from the memory. Even though it had been years since she was entrusted with his notes of Flame Alchemy, Riza still felt the powerful grip her father had on her life. Even as an adult, she could never escape him and what he did to her.

Now they knew where he got the idea to hide the most dangerous form of alchemy.

After what felt like hours Riza finally pulled away from Roy's chest. She apologized while rubbing what felt like slime away from her face.

"Don't apologize. I should've burned it years ago."

"Why didn't you?" Riza was perplexed. Roy hated her father's actions almost as much as Riza did.

Roy shook his head. "I don't know." His eyes dropped to the ground and picked up the matchbook, handing it over to her. "I'm kind of glad I didn't though."

Riza shot her head up and looked quizzically at Roy. He was 'glad?' Before she could question him, Roy continued.

"I was so upset when I found this book and read that story. All I could think about was seeing your back and hating your father." Roy paused and squeezed his eyes shut. "Making you out to be the one to carry his _great_ discoveries on your back, I was so disgusted by him."

Roy opened his eyes but still refused to make eye contact. "But then I saw you in Ishbal. And you had to see me use it as a weapon. All of that hate I kept for your father paled in comparison for how much I loathed myself. I couldn't believe how stupid I was to think I was worthy enough to be entrusted with his work."

He paused and gulped.

"But then you proved me wrong." Riza sucked in a breath but Roy continued. "You were the one from the beginning who chose me to learn about Flame Alchemy. You chose to ask me to burn your back. You made that decision. I would be the only one that would see the original completion of Flame Alchemy and nobody else. You chose to destroy your own body so that you could move forward. That is just one of many strengths I admire about you."

"I should've shown this book to you years ago. But I knew all along that the one to do it was you." He indicated towards the matchbook. "It's your choice to make, Riza. You've always had this power. Don't let the past keep you from moving forward."

Riza looked up him in wonderment then back at her hands still enclosed by his fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut and drank in every word he said.

Truth and reason were made clear from his words. She was no longer a victim of her father. She was not like the Queen of Xerxes.

If anything, she was, and always seemed to only be Roy's Queen.

Riza looked down at her hands still holding the matchbook. Roy cupped her hands in his and waited for her to say something. Roy's words rung with truth to Riza. After all, she may have agreed to be the one to hold the secrets to Flame Alchemy. But, she remembered, as she lay on her dining room table she never technical agreed to actually protect it.

"You've accomplished so much in the last couple of years." Roy said breaking the silence. "You've helped a lot of people. You made so many changes in the world, and you don't even know it."

Even though she had made Roy to be the one to burn her back, it was all of her own volition. She chose freedom from the burden her father and strapped her with since she was a young teenager. She chose to leave behind the dark years of her childhood behind and move forward with her blessed damaged back.

The Xerxian Queen had made her choice and became a slave to her decision.

That fate was not meant for Riza.

A new flame ignited somewhere within her soul, making her stand bringing Roy up with her. Steadying her hand, she struck the match and watched a bright orange flame explode on the match head. She admired the simple beauty of the flame for a brief moment. The purity of the element glowing in her hand that could destroy life in seconds reflected years of torment she had to suffer knowing she played a part in it.

At least not for today.

Riza brought the match over to the stove with the vent still humming above where the book rested. Without hesitation, Riza lit a corner and delighted on the small flame traveling through the wedge of pages. She lit the other corners and felt Roy come from behind her, encircling her waist in his arms and rested his chin on her shoulder. The pungent smell of burning leather wafted to her nose making it wrinkle in disgust. But the book began to burn into white and blue smoke that was instantly sucked in by the vent.

Fire eventually streaked across the cover, burning the book's title. Riza and Roy watched as the muse for Riza's tattoo burn right before them. Witnessing at last as the book crumbled into flaky white ash. Riza wasn't too sure, but she swore that she could make out the red ribbon book mark dance in the flames before disappearing all together.

Roy continued to clutch Riza even after the fire died. In just an hour, the sun was going to rise up, signaling the start of the day for the both of them. The scar on Riza's back still felt like it was burning. But it was a good burn. It was a burning reminder that she was really safe.


End file.
